


Baby Steps

by bluerighthand



Series: Growing Up A Shelby AU [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Poverty, Prequel, Tommy and Arthur being Tommy and Arthur, horse riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerighthand/pseuds/bluerighthand
Summary: It’s 1893.Tommy is turning three, Arthur Snr's disappearance has left the family reeling, and Polly navigates life as a teenager.Prequel to GUAS (though you don't have to read that first if you don't want to).





	Baby Steps

**Author's Note:**

> It was my birthday on Thursday, so I wanted to write a little fluffy thing about mini Tommy's birthday, which sort of ran away with me and turned into a prequel to GUAS - so angst has crept in (sorry!)

Tommy Shelby was an adorably frustrating baby. There was simply no other way of putting it. With the exception of his father, who already showed a strong preference for his older brother, Tommy’s big blue eyes and chubby cheeks melted even the hardest of hearts. He fully exploited this of course, which is where the frustration came in. He had the ability to get into trouble in every conceivable way possible.

From the moment he could crawl, he was near impossible to keep track of. Arthur Jnr, though enthusiastically rising to his role of top Tommy locator, often got distracted, and a frantic Jane would find them happily playing together behind a crate or in the stables hours after they’d wandered off.

She wasn’t a bad mother, far from it, everyone in Small Heath knew how much she loved her boys. But working two jobs to provide for the household, and sorting laundry, meals and upkeep left her with little time to spare. It had been easier since Polly had come to live with them, but the boys were fond of exploring, and an extra pair of eyes did little to deter them. Her husband, if she could even still call him that, hadn’t been home for over a year. She’d woken last spring to a hastily scrawled note on the bedsheets, and a few stolen coins in her wallet.

Big business opportunity in Ireland, he’d said. Didn’t want to wake you. Be back before Thomas turns two.

Jane took out the note sometimes, from where it was carefully tucked inside the book in her bedside drawer. She did so now, on the eve of Tommy’s third birthday. Arthur hadn’t come back. There had been no letters, no telephone calls. She’d tried to track him down in Ireland, through hotel bookings and their family friends in Galway, but to no avail. Most people refused to give out such information over the phone, and she couldn’t leave the boys. Even if she could, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Lying awake in the dead of night, she sometimes wondered if he was dead, if she should move on and forget him. But how could she forget the way he used to kiss her?

The wistfulness soon passed, and she finally did what she should have done months ago, scrunching the note up with a cry of frustration and throwing it across the room. It bounced off the wall, falling into the thin layer of dust around the foot of her dresser. She hung her head, fingers clenching painfully in her hair as she squeezed.

“Jane?” said a small voice, and she composed herself, lifting her head to see her sister-in-law in the doorway. Polly was still wearing her school clothes, the crumpled pinafore hanging loose on her body and her laddered tights looking particularly worse for wear in the fading light. She was looking more like Arthur every day. Jane held out a hand, but Polly crossed the room and picked up her brother’s note.

“Pol” she started, but she had already unfolded it, a deep frown appearing on her forehead as she read. She clung to the paper for a moment, before letting it drop to the floor, joining Jane on the bed. They didn’t speak for a while, each lost in their own memories.

“Is he ever coming back?” asked Polly bitterly. Jane wrapped an arm around her shoulders, marvelling at how tall she was getting since turning 13.

“I don’t know” she said honestly. It was hard to make promises in Small Heath. The situation was ever changing, usually from bad to worse, and she didn’t want to get Polly’s hopes up. For all her resentment, Arthur was still her older brother.

“I hate him” said Polly, and Jane shook her head, immediately cursing her instinct for still jumping to defend someone who’d left his children with nothing, and his sister to grieve their mother alone. She swallowed her protest, instead jumping up and crossing the room. Considering the circumstances, she thought Polly had adjusted to life in Watery Lane pretty well after a few months, though it was clear she missed her mother terribly. Helping around the house, and taking care of the kids was both an enormous help to Jane and a distraction for her. Although they liked to wind her up, both Arthur and Tommy adored their aunt, and Jane smiled to see them all piled on the sofa together in the evenings. Loving them enough for two parents wasn’t hard.

“What do you think?” asked Jane, taking out a knitted horse from her bag and handing it to Polly. She grinned, stroking over the brown string mane and button eyes.

“He’s going to love it” said Polly.

“Took bloody ages” said Jane, laughing. “Couldn’t get the stitches right at first”.

“Where’d you get the wool?”. “Charlie knows a girl at the dying factory” said Jane with a wry smile. The horse wasn’t perfect, she knew. There were a few loose threads, and the shape was more like a sausage with smaller sausages for legs than the toys she’d seen in the shop windows, but she was confident Tommy would love it all the same. The dog she’d made for Arthur years before still accompanied him to bed each night, and her heart warmed to think of her boys snuggled up together with the toys she’d made them.

“Right” she said, with a glance at the clock. “It’s ten o’clock you, get to bed”. Polly nodded reluctantly, pulling out her clips and letting her hair fall around her face as she walked down the hallway. Jane readied herself for bed, before kissing Polly goodnight and opening the boys’ door an inch to peek inside. They were both breathing deeply, fast asleep. The curtains were slightly open, a chink of lamplight from the street beyond casting long shadows on the patterned wallpaper.

Jane tiptoed in, picking up Arthur’s dog from where it had fallen to the ground and nestling it in beside him once again. Turning to Tommy’s cot, she pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, taking a moment to look at her son as a two-year-old for the last time.

On his last birthday, Tommy was just beginning to understand the concept. The finer details were lost to him, but he knew when Arthur had birthdays he got toys that Tommy wasn’t allowed to play with, and what Tommy wasn’t allowed, he actively sought after. This usually resulted in a tug of war, and tears when a winner emerged. Charlie had chuckled when he witnessed this, recounting a fight he’d had with Jane over a spinning top that ended in a nosebleed, several smashed plates and two very angry parents.

Even so, Jane wanted no fighting today. She was exhausted, lying awake in the small hours thinking today of all days would be the one Arthur would call. She gave up on sleeping, trudging downstairs at around six to prepare breakfast. The telephone remained silent, as she knew deep down it would, but it dominated the room nonetheless, drawing her eyes and trapping her in a cycle of pacing and staring.

An hour later, breakfast was made, and Tommy’s horse and a few other packages from relatives were arranged carefully around his plate. Jane headed upstairs, changing out of her nightclothes and waking Polly.

Polly didn’t appreciate the fact it was a school day, but forced herself out of bed nonetheless. She hadn’t enjoyed school since she’d moved to Small Heath. On top of losing her mother and her home, the thought of her friends together at her old school moving on without her made her feel sick. They’d surely forget her if she didn’t write regularly, but there was little money for ink and paper, and even less for stamps. She’d managed to swipe a few from the post office and send a letter to Katherine, but she’d had nothing in reply.

Maybe there’d been a mix up with the post, and the letter had never reached her. Or maybe she was too busy for old friends. Polly had telephoned of course, but she’d stopped ringing her friends a month ago, when Ruby’s mother had told her they were all away together, visiting Maggie’s grandmother in the country. They’d never rang her first anyway, it was always her to dial the numbers. She still knew them off by heart.

She hadn’t spoken to Jane about it, didn’t want to bother her with such things when she was already struggling. She was under the impression Polly had made friends, and settled in at this school. She wasn’t lying exactly, just giving her guardian one less thing to worry about. All the girls in her class thought she was scary, and strange. She’d heard them whispering about her in the courtyard. She had no luck with befriending the boys either, as they were only interested in girls who would hang off their arms and dote upon their every word.

Having Arthur there helped a bit, although he was more interested in playing soldiers than hanging out with his aunt at break time. It was one year and two months until she could leave. She’d decided she wanted to be an accountant, and was researching courses, despite her brother’s disapproval of women in the workplace. Who cared what he thought anyway, she reminded herself firmly. He hadn’t even seen her since she was eleven, and it seemed that men were the cause of most problems in the world anyway.

She groaned as she put on her tights, and the biggest ladder ripped even further. To hell with it, she thought, pulling them on anyway. Not like she had to impress anyone.

 

Jane opened the boys’ door and pulled the curtains, pale morning light rushing into the room. Tommy was just starting to wake when she entered, rubbing his eyes and rolling over onto his back.

“Good morning my birthday boy!” she cooed, reaching down and scooping Tommy out of his cot. He was almost too big for it now, and she’d have to get Charlie to build him a proper bed soon. The bars had been ineffective for months anyway. Jane still hadn’t been able to catch him in the act, so God knows how he managed it, but she often found him out of bed, toddling around the house at night time, or playing on the floor innocently the next morning. Tommy yawned, wrapping his arms around her neck as she pressed kisses onto his hair.

The thought that she couldn’t give him the day she wanted to resurfaced, and guilt settled in her stomach. Even with two jobs, there were three kids to look after and endless bills to pay, meaning funds were always stretched thin. Charlie helped out, bringing money and toys for the kids whenever he could, but she just wanted to give them more. She couldn’t bake him a cake, for instance. She’d saved some extra food stamps for fresh eggs and lard, but they couldn’t afford to use any more on just one day, no matter how special it was.

Tommy jolted Jane out of her thoughts by grabbing at her earring, giggling as she pinched his cheek. Perching on the edge of Arthur’s bed, she woke him with a gentle shake to the shoulder. Sitting up and stretching, Arthur beamed at his brother.

“Happy birthday Tommy!” he yelled, Jane shushing him quickly in case their neighbours were still sleeping. Arthur used a quieter voice, and she placed Tommy on the bed. He crawled over to Arthur, climbing into his lap.

“How old are you today Tom?” Jane asked. Tommy thought about this, before laughing and holding up all ten fingers.

“No” groaned Arthur, trying to lower seven with little success. “Mama, Tommy thinks he’s ten”.

“I think he’s just joking darling” said Jane, reaching over to tickle Tommy, who squealed.

“I’m really three!” he said, once Jane had relented, like he’d let them in on a big secret. Arthur nodded, satisfied, and wrapped him in a hug.

 

Half an hour later, Polly’s jaw dropped as she stared at the full breakfast table. Usually they were lucky to get a slice of bread in the morning, and she relied on school lunches to get her through the day.

“Been saving” said Jane. “Managed to get a fresh loaf, and there’s eggs, lard and milk too”.

Polly sighed happily, buttering a slice of bread and tucking in. Arthur was also on a mission to eat as much as physically possible, but Jane didn’t scold him as he wolfed down his eggs noisily. Tommy, though usually perfectly content to nibble on a bread crust, also appreciated his birthday breakfast. He’d spotted the horse the second he was through the door, and it had remained hugged close to his chest for the remainder of the meal. Uncle Charlie had wrapped up some coloured blocks for him, and his grandfather had sent some clothes, which Jane was extremely grateful for.

Breakfast took longer than usual, with the extra food and the presents, so Polly and Arthur were in a rush to get ready for school. Jane was reluctant to leave the house should the telephone finally ring, but common sense won out, and she pulled on a pair of thin gloves. The bleak grey of winter was finally abating, though there was still a crisp chill in the air. Shrugging on Jane’s old shoes and coat, Polly buttoned Arthur’s blazer and ushered him outside.

Jane stepped out behind them, pulling the door closed with a slam and handing Tommy to Polly. This was their usual routine. Polly held Tommy, and she carried Arthur, to save him from the ground that cut into his soft bare feet. She thought of the day Arthur would be too big to be held, and pressed a kiss to his hair protectively.

He’d taken their father’s disappearance badly, sitting for hours by the phone, and grabbing letters straight from the postman’s hands in his eagerness for news, crumpling in disappointment when there was nothing.

She set him down at the gates, and he started to run into the yard, but turned back after a moment to reach up and ruffle Tommy’s hair as he’d seen Charlie do in farewell. Polly handed her nephew to Jane, saying goodbye before following Arthur into school, mentally counting the hours until she could leave. Tommy waved goodbye, eyes roaming curiously around the school yard. He’d be there himself in under two years, Jane couldn’t believe it.

She returned to the house with Tommy, humming to him under her breath as he took in the world, horse clutched in his little hands.

Luckily, today was a cleaning day rather than an office day, and so she was able to take Tommy to work with her rather than leave him in Charlie’s yard, or in the strict care of Mrs Hanson’s nursery school down the lane. Gathering her supplies, they left quickly for the first house, to nip their lateness in the bud before it delayed them further.

Tommy was usually a terror when she was cleaning. Jane’s back was often turned, giving him free reign to wander off, grab anything within reach, eat things that shouldn’t be eaten or pet the family dog a little too enthusiastically. She sometimes spent more time dealing with him than actually cleaning. Thank God Arthur was now in school.

Today however, Tommy was happy waving his horse around, making it jump from surface to surface and perform mid-air somersaults. The second house had a long hallway, which Tommy loved to run down, tiring him out for the next few locations and prompting him to curl up on a cushion whilst Jane worked rather than cause trouble. He was roused by a biscuit from the last house, and perked up further once Jane was carrying him home.

He wanted to walk, and she let him once their route reached smooth slabs of pavement rather than gravel or dirt tracks. They neared Watery Lane, and Tommy held his mother’s hand as they passed by hissing machines and factory workers.

“What we doing later Mama?” he asked.

“Well” Jane said, drawing out the ‘l’ sound for dramatic effect, “we’re going to go to the pasture”. Tommy shrieked in excitement, jumping up and down and brandishing his knitted toy at Jane. They’d have to think of a name for it she thought, as she ruffled his hair fondly. How he could still get so excited for somewhere they went at least once a week warmed her heart. Arthur and Polly had returned home whilst they were out, and were lounging on the sofa as they arrived.

“Going to horses!” Tommy announced, running over to Arthur, who was equally enthusiastic.

“I can gallop the fastest” he said to Tommy, demonstrating by running around the room in imitation. Tommy gave him a deadpan stare, which always made Polly crack up. How could someone so young have such a look inside them? They were both galloping now, picking their feet up like they watched the horses do in the fields. Of course, Arthur had the advantage, and was soon lapping Tommy, who burst into tears and began to sulk after he tripped over his brother’s schoolbag. Where he’d learnt the word sabotage, Polly wasn’t sure.

Jane returned with two cups of tea to the chaotic scene, but didn’t have it in her to be angry with either of them today, simply wiping Tommy’s tears and distracting him with their upcoming trip. Though he kept up his protests most of the way, Tommy quietened as they neared the stables, and Jane had to stifle a laugh as Arthur attempted to lift him up to see the horses by way of apology. She took over, lifting Tommy up and smiling proudly as he stroked a horse’s mane.

“Which one do you want to go on Tommy?” asked Polly, already leading her favourite filly, Wilma, out of the stables. Tommy began to enthusiastically list every horse present, and then some who weren’t.

“One Tommy, one” laughed Jane. They’d have to work on his counting. Eventually, Tommy settled on a bay horse called Ossian, named after the most financially successful racehorse of England in 1883. Of course Arthur Snr had been the one to name him. Driven by money, that man.

This Ossian however, was not destined for a racing life, and was happy to be brushed and provided with enough hay to happily munch the days away.

Jane saddled him up, and climbed on, Polly handing Tommy up to her. Arthur, under careful supervision, was now allowed to ride a smaller horse on his own. Jane was still slightly wary about it, but he was nearly seven, and usually on best behaviour at the stables.

The afternoon was spent cantering around the fields, breeze cool and the sky a bright blue away from the smog of the inner city. Wildflowers bloomed within the long grass, and Polly had a small yellow buttercup in her hair.

They stopped for a drink a while later, and Polly persuaded Jane to wear a pale pink flower through her buttonhole. Arthur ended up with a daisy, and Tommy a forget-me-not.

It was so peaceful out here, and in the evening sun the laughter of her children and sister-in-law reminded Jane that this was all she needed. They may not have riches, but a mansion and a car could never bring her this happiness. They were all fed and clothed, Tommy had a present he loved and a family who adored him. Arthur may not be there to watch his sister and sons grow up, but she was, and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed <3  
> I'm still slightly dying of the plague but I have many snacks to help me recover.
> 
> Fun fact: Ossian really was the most financially successful English racehorse of 1883, don't let anyone tell you fanfic isn't educational


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